Let it Go
by Rhianwen
Summary: Drake and Wendy on the subject of Yomiko. She knows he's right, and she'll have to make peace sometime, but she kind of thinks she'd prefer another five years in prison. DrakeWendy fluff, for 30kisses theme 13. Set eight years postseries.


Let it Go

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Disclaimer: They're Kurata's toys, I'm just borrowing them. I'll bring them back, safe and sound, when I'm done, I promise! Song snippet written, performed, and owned as far as I know, by the Newsboys.

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Summary: Drake and Wendy on the subject of Yomiko. DrakeWendy fluff, for 30kisses theme #13. Set five years post-series.

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_This bitterness you hide,  
It seeps into your soul,  
And steals your joy  
Until it's all you know_

Let it Go – The Newsboys

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When she was six, the best thing in the world was an afternoon of playing dolls with Mum.

When she was sixteen, the best thing in the world was cycling with her older brother and his good-looking best friend.

When she was twenty-six, the best thing in the world was the simple assurance that she was doing something right, and someone out there needed her.

Now, at the far greater wisdom of thirty-three, she knows the truth. There's just nothing in the world better than this.

Drifting easily in and out of a light doze, surrounded by a faint, indefinable scent that speaks of strength and warmth and protection; of a smile that starts in his eyes even if it doesn't always reach his lips; of tea in the mornings, even though he can't stand it, because she likes it.

Curled up comfortably on the couch in the dim glow of the late-night movie, cheek resting against his chest, one arm tucked around her waist, his breathing warm and stirring her hair.

He's just gotten back this evening, a day earlier than he thought, from a job that took him to Tokyo, and apparently, he's missed her enough that he's not only letting her cuddle up, but he's actually cuddling back, just a little.

She's quite willing to bet that he hasn't been paying any more attention to the movie than she has, and couldn't care less who dunnit, or why the cruel, rich millionaire is alive and wandering around again despite being found waterlogged in the bottom of his own well.

His hand pushes the hem of her almost comically oversized tee shirt away and settles at the curve of her waist, moving in slow, absent circles. A moment later, she feels him shift a little, and peeks up to find him staring curiously down at her.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" He presses his face to the curve of her neck and breathes deeply. "And my aftershave?"

Her blush is nearly a visible red glow in the warm, comfortable semidarkness of the room.

"What can I say? I really missed you."

He sends her a look that tries to be flatly incredulous, but ends up a fond halfsmile.

"Then maybe next time, you should come along."

"Maybe next time, I will," she agrees softly, eyes already growing dreamy at the idea of being nearby in case he gets hurt, and having a few days to be on holiday together after his job is finished if he doesn't.

The almost-smile fades to a not-at-all-smile.

"You mean, providing next time isn't in Tokyo."

She pushes up from his shoulder, already starting to protest in outrage that she doesn't have anything against the city; then, as the ever-lengthening list of excuses she's used to get out of a trip to visit his friends crowds into her head, she looks away guiltily.

"Sorry."

He shrugs.

"Nah, forget it. I just don't get why you won't come with me."

A long moment of trying to form the jumbled anxieties and stale bitterness into something coherent finds the words still sticking in her throat, and he sighs, thunderous in the faint noise of the movie turned way down for a catnap.

"You know, I wouldn't make you come with me to visit them. Even though I really think the sooner you make peace with them, the better. They know we're married, and the longer you put it off, the harder it'll be."

"Do you really think they would agree to this making peace business?"

He sighs again, and catches her hand in a brief squeeze.

"You know they would. Yomiko wants her friend back. She's more than willing to forgive you, if you just make a little effort—"

"To bow and scrape for it," she breaks in flatly, twisting out of his grip, facing away, and curling up with her folded arms propped up on her knees, chin resting at her arms. "I'd sooner die."

"You don't think they deserve an apology?"

"Of course they do," she snaps, unfolding and glaring briefly, her ire only growing at his perfect calm, watching her intently. "But they won't forgive anyway, not until I go groveling to her. And on the slight chance that they would forgive even then, I'm not prepared to beg her for anything."

"We're still talking about Yomiko, right?"

It always amazes him when he hears people call her cold and emotionless. Even when it was all happening, he could sense a hell of a lot going on beneath a thin veneer of composure. A lot of the same sick, cold anger and despair he can just barely see in her expression now before she turns away.

Coupled with these, her silence affirms his suggestion, and he can feel his jaw tightening briefly.

"So, you wanna tell me why everyone else deserves an apology, but Yomiko deserves to rot?"

"That's not what I said. I just think we're even now."

She starts to uncurl again, and climbs to her feet, and he's up in an instant, catching her around the waist and pulling her back down after him, into his lap.

"We're not finished yet, Bonehead. First, you're going to tell me what the hell that's supposed to mean."

Another long moment passes, and just as he's starting to flirt with the idea of grabbing her and shaking an explanation out of her, a tiny, reluctant voice reaches his ears.

"You know that she caused the fire at the library, right?"

"Yeah; I know why, too," he replies heavily.

She gives a sharp, bitter little laugh.

"I suppose I have to hand it to her; hundreds dead and injured and the whole building on fire did make a hell of a diversion. Although, bringing down the building and killing innocents so she could leave undetected with the book and that I-jin girl was a bit of overkill."

"I'm sure finding out what they did to Donnie didn't foster any need to go easy, either." It doesn't escape her notice that his erstwhile enemies have become they instead of you.

"I don't know exactly what we did to him," she mutters – because she has no particular desire to forget that she was involved with the wrong side – "but I still don't think that's much of a reason for killing innocent people."

"If they were in the building, they couldn't have been too innocent," he says flatly, and he doesn't even have to look down to know that he's on the receiving end of a heated glare. Not that he cares, as long as she doesn't try to shut down or run away again.

"Keep in mind, she worked for them at one point, too. For that matter, so did you, for a lot longer, and you didn't know everything that went on. Why was everyone in the building, involved with our unit or not, necessarily to blame?"

"Did it occur to you that maybe she wasn't thinking too clearly?" he asks gently. "She'd just found out that they'd tortured her boyfriend. These people were supposed to be her friends. You wouldn't be a little upset?"

"I would," she murmured, voice growing thick. "And I was. Elias was dead when we found him, and so were lots of other people. But Karen, my best friend, was still alive. She was in the hospital for a month before she died, and she only woke up three times. Every time, she was in so much pain that the doctors had to drug her until she didn't know what was happening. Mr. Joker wouldn't let the doctors tell me the extent of her injuries, so I just kept thinking she was going to get better. When they finally told me that she wouldn't, I think I started laughing, because it was just so silly. How did I survive, when it was nothing short of miraculous that I avoided tripping on ever bit of rubble between me and the door, but Karen didn't get out in time?"

His arms tighten around her.

"I'm glad you did."

She smiles wearily, scrubbing futilely at tearwet eyes.

"I don't think the people at the hospital were. They already had to deal with all the paperwork of losing a patient, and then they had to deal with her hysterical little roommate on top of it."

"She didn't mean to hurt anyone," he finally says quietly, even as his fingers twist soothingly through her hair.

Wendy looks up, confused for a moment. Then, when the identity of the elusive she dawns on her again, gives a very brief, grim little chuckle.

"Neither did I, at first."

"What changed?"

"Mr. Joker said—"

"Here we go."

"He kept saying that I owed it to Elias, and Karen, and everyone else, to help our plans succeed so that we didn't lose him for nothing."

He shoots her a look of pure disbelief.

"Huh. That's a pretty fancy way to say revenge."

"He didn't encourage something like that," she murmurs. "At least, officially. But he did spend a lot of time reminding me that it was her fault. A long time ago, when we were still friends, I asked if she'd done it on purpose, but he just asked if I really thought it mattered, and if I really thought that it made her exempt from blame that it was only an unfortunate accident, when she'd still made no attempt to make amends."

"Yeah, that sounds like Joker."

"I think he was right."

"And that sounds like you."

He barely manages to avoid an elbow flying suddenly back at his head as she tries to squirm out of his arms again.

"I'm going to bed."

"You're staying right here," he counters flatly, pinning her arms to her sides and tightening his grip. "No way in Hell I'm letting you dwell on this all night."

"So I should just stay here and listen to you telling me that I'm a pathetic sheep because I was upset at the girl for killing my best friend and treating it like Karen deserved to die because of where she worked, even though—?"

"Of course not," he breaks in, catching a flying fist easily. "I didn't say you were a sheep. I'd just like to know if you'd have ever started hating her on your own, without Joker hammering it into your head that you owed it to Karen."

"Because of course, the only way I could possibly think something different from you is if a crazy man made me."

"Holy shit, all this because I wanted to take you on a nice holiday to Tokyo," he mutters, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "Okay, kiddo, listen. I don't blame you for being angry with her, and yes, I think you had your reasons. But it's been, what? Ten years?"

"Eleven," she mutters, struggling to cross her arms in his grip.

"Eleven years," he echoes quietly. "You've been dwelling on it for over a decade, going over and over it in your mind, convincing yourself that if you stop, you're letting someone down."

She buries her face in his arm.

"If I apologize to her, then I am letting someone down. I'm acknowledging that it was wrong to be upset over losing them. If they didn't even warrant an attempt to bring their killer to justice when nobody else bloody well would—"

"You're forgetting that she's suffered through all of this, too."

"How, by hiding with a big pile of books for five years while the rest of us tried to clean up the mess she made? Along that line of logic, I should have been locked in your bedroom and given hot, steamy sex instead of prison time."

He grins.

"You know, I'm all for the sex, but there are better ways to ask for it."

"Drake! I'm serious!" she exclaims, nevertheless choking back giggles. She cuddles back down into his sweatshirt, and sighs. "I know that she was unhappy for those years, and I don't want her to suffer any more, but I also don't want to pretend that none of us ever suffered because of her."

"Personally, I'd say it's worth it to get your friend back."

"You think it's worth dishonouring the memories of two close friends and lots of other people, for the sake of a friendship that was only ever one-sided at best?"

"One-sided? How's that?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugs almost casually enough to hide the tightness in her voice. "I would be glad to see her, and run to say hello, invite her for coffee when she was in town, and mail her things on her birthday, and she would be annoyed that I was keeping her from her reading. I was allowed to stay, as long as I didn't try to talk to her. That was essentially how our friendship worked."

"That's how Yomiko is with everyone," he chuckles. "It doesn't mean she doesn't miss you."

"Well, maybe I've had enough of being an annoyance all my life," she snaps.

"Come on, Wendy. Why is it so hard to let it go? You're just making yourself miserable when you don't have to be. What's the point? You haven't been miserable long enough?"

"Of course I have!" she exclaims in a teary burst, her fist bouncing harmlessly off his shoulder. "This is all because you wanted me to apologize to her!"

"No, I didn't – I wanted you to make peace with all of them."

"None of them will even consider that until I beg her forgiveness first," she sniffles. "I'm not trying to make you stop being their friend, I just don't want to go back into a friendship that only ever emphasized how worthless and irritating I was. They won't stop being your friend no matter what I do, so why is there a problem?"

"Okay, let's backtrack again. I don't want you to work things out with them for my sake, and I don't think you owe her anything. But you know as well as I do that if you just talk to her, you'll be a lot happier. That's what I want."

"Mmm, right. Groveling for reluctant, sorrowful forgiveness for the sake of a friendship that she only acknowledged when it was convenient. I can't see how anyone could stay unhappy after that."

One hand tight against his eyes, he takes a long moment to think.

"Okay; so, you're hurt because you think she never wanted you around when you were friends, and didn't give two shits about how you were doing until it became beneficial to have Joker's right-hand woman on her side. But you think you don't have a right to be upset because of what you did to the rest of them, and you feel like you're betraying your friends for thinking that, so you beat yourself up even more. Am I right?"

"More or less," she admits grudgingly.

"Great. But you know what? Your friend Karen? She'd give you a swift kick in the ass if she could, for picking at scabs like this."

"Well, thanks," she manages with a weak grin. "I really did love Yomiko – it just hurt a little, that she never seemed to care beyond a little bit of irritation. That's why I don't think she's worth betraying Karen's memory."

"I know, kiddo, but you might want to ask yourself something. If she's not worth that, why the hell is she worth a decade of nurturing a grudge that's got you so wrapped up in bitterness that you can't move on with your life and be happy?"

"Drake! I am happy! You know I am!"

His brows draw together.

"Sure; right up until you have to think about her. Then you get pulled one way by guilt and the other way by resentment, beating the hell out of yourself for hurting people, and beating the hell out of yourself for feeling guilty, because you can't get it through your head that no matter how much you care about someone, it doesn't mean you have to agree with everything they do. Once you've got yourself ripped in half, you crawl away to hide from me until you can stop thinking because you don't think you deserve any help, and it's really starting to piss me off."

"Oh, well, sorry!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up and inadvertently sending her tissue floating gently to the floor. "But you know, it's not really your business, how I choose to deal with things."

"You think so?" She shivers a little at his tone, nearly a growl, and a scant inch away. "I think it became my business the day I brought you home. I don't want to watch my wife killing herself over something she's already done her time for, especially when I promised her I'd make her happy."

"You have!" she insists, arms winding around him, damp cheek nuzzling his. "It's not your fault I'm stupid."

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm staging an intervention," he grumbles, nevertheless accepting the cuddles. "You've got an unhealthy addiction to dwelling on the past."

"And does this intervention include dragging me with you on your next trip to see them?"

"I told you, kiddo, I'm not going to make you do anything. But I am going to start singing inspirational songs whenever you start this crap."

Caught off guard by this delightful mental image, especially when she adds the top hat and polka-dot heart boxer shorts, she tries to sniff scornfully and ends up giggling madly instead.

"I think the sight of you singing happy songs would work on just about anybody."

"If I do the little dance too, will you come with me next time?"

"If you do the little dance, I'll not only come with you next time, I'll wear stiletto heels and a miniskirt."

He considers this for a long moment.

"Like, to meet them, or just around the house sometime?"

"You pick."

Another long moment.

"Huh. Well, I can't really take advantage of it if they're all hanging around. Why don't we make it a private party, and you can wear whatever you want when we go to meet them?"

"I think a bullet-proof vest might make the list," she groans despairingly, and he snorts.

"Does this mean you're serious about making peace with them?"

She hesitates.

"I'll try."

With a soft chuckle, he gives her a little squeeze.

"That's all I can ask."

Minutes pass, and all is bliss and contentment as the minutes tick by, until Drake clears his throat.

"So, I guess this would be a good time to let you know that we're having some visitors in a couple weeks..."

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